


Down Below

by thesaddestboner



Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: Angst, College Football, F/M, M/M, Multi, Non-Famous Family Members As Characters, Notre Dame Fighting Irish, Ohio State Buckeyes, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-06
Updated: 2006-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-12 11:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Brady shivers and looks out the window and says nothing.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down Below

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd because who would want to beta this? [This](http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j221/rowdykylefarnsworth/misc11/000528s2.jpg) is Laura Quinn. 
> 
> The working title was "Badwrong Fic," which should explain everything.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

After the game, the three of them take a taxi together to Brady's hotel room, promising to catch up with Mom and Dad later, after a little bit of rest and relaxation, and perhaps some dinner. The ride back, AJ can't stop grinning, and Laura fawns over him, curling a strand of his wet blond hair around her index finger, petting his arm. Brady shivers and looks out the window and says nothing.

"Been awfully quiet, B." Hawk pats his hand down the back of Quinn's neck, and Brady twists away, out of AJ's reach.

" 'm just thinking," he mutters, watching the scenery whip by, everything washed out and muted and gray. The tall palm trees blurring into one mass of green and tan.

"Thinking about the game?" asks Laura.

"Duh." Brady bites down on his fingernails, bad habit that Charlie's been trying to get him to kick since he took over the team. Says it affects the trajectory of the ball or something like that. Brady bites down even harder at the sound of Coach's voice at the back of his mind.

"I wish you could have both won it," Laura says, leaning over Hawk's bulk to give the back of Brady's head a sisterly pat.

"Wouldn't that have been something." Brady heaves a sigh and closes his eyes, tilting his head back, feeling the pain sizzle down from the base of his neck through his arms, to the tips of his fingers, feeling the crackle of pain at his ribs where AJ had crushed him.

"Sure would have." AJ agrees, slipping an arm around Laura's waist. "I think we should go out for dinner or something. A little post-game celebration."

"Don't really feel like celebrating right now, AJ. If you can understand," Brady quips, didn't mean to be so short with him, but he can't really help it right now.

"You still had a great season," Hawk reminds him.

"Thanks." Brady glances back at AJ, who has his hand resting on his sister's bare knee. He looks away again, just a little bit unhappy at how AJ is pushing his sister's denim skirt up over her knee. And how Laura is letting him.

"Maybe a little rest and relaxation'd do you good," Hawk says.

"I can give you a backrub." Laura shifts on AJ's lap and rests her cheek on his shoulder. 

"I'll be fine," Brady says. "I just need to unwind. This's been a long season." He rubs his hand along the ridge of his ribs where Hawk had gotten him, lifting up the bottom of his shirt, half expecting to find hand-shaped bruises on his porcelain white skin.

Hawk reaches out and socks Brady in the stomach, playfully. "Gotcha good," he says, proudly, his eyes lighting up and his chest puffing out. Laura laughs and rubs her hand over his chest, and Brady seethes.

"Good for you," he mutters, dryly, turning to gaze out the window. The buildings are starting to thin out, as the taxi makes its way for the Hilton the team is staying at, concrete jungle reduced to nothing more than a concrete garden at the moment. Brady brushes his fingertips across a smudge on the window over his reflection, but it doesn't go away. 

*

Brady flops onto the first bed and sinks into the comforter, burying his face in the pillow and kicking off his shoes. Laura slips into the room and drops her purse on the second bed and removes her jacket. 

"Tired, huh, Brade?" she asks, setting it down on a chair by the balcony. She turns and looks out the window. "Everything looks so cool from up here. It's, like, really cool. Come here and look." Laura gestures to Brady to come to her side, and he sighs, dragging himself out of bed and shuffling over to where she's standing.

"What are we looking at?" he asks.

Laura touches his elbow. "The city. Doesn't it look like . . ." She doesn't finish her sentence. 

Brady rests his forehead against the glass. "It just looks like a milion tiny . . . fireflies flying around or something. It doesn't look like anything spdecial," he mutters.

Laura rubs her hand down his back and leaves it to rest at his hip. "I think it looks beautiful."

He backs away from her. "Good for you." Brady turns and leaves, Laura following.

"Are you okay, B?" she asks, as he digs around in his luggage for a clean t-shirt and a pair of boxers, and shrugs off his button-up dress shirt.

"I'm fine, Laura." Brady knocks his bag to the floor and lays down on the bed, closing his eyes, resting hsi hand over his eyes, the glare of the lights so strong he starts feeling weak all over.

Laura strokes a hand over Brady's chest, appreciating the bruises marring his skin with the tips of her fingers. "AJ hit you hard, huh?" 

Brady murmurs, his eyes closed. "Mmhmm. 'm sore. Don't." He bats her hand away and rolls onto his side, pulling his pillow against his chest. He shudders a little at the fine ache that rolls through his body, and at the hands on his shoulders.

"Let me give you a backrub. You're really tense." She clambers closer, and Brady can smell her shampoo and feel her hair on the back of his aching neck.

" 'kay." Brady lays himself flat on his stomach and rests his chin on his arm. Tries hard not to let his mind wander while Laura's squeezing his shoulder in her hands.

"You played really well tonight, B," she says, softly, moving her hands lower, to the place where his ribs end. "I'm proud of you." Laura presses harder, and Brady lets out a strangled little squeak.

"Careful," he whispers, biting down hard on his bottom lip. "That hurts."

"Sorry. Your back is all in knots," she points out, helpfully, letting up on him and shifting, straddling his thighs. "How does that feel?"

"Good," he says, closing his eyes. Brady lets out a soft murmur and rubs his cheek against his pillow, sinking into his tired, fuzzed-out mind, sinking into the softness of the pillow and the bed and his sister's - no. Brady quickly pushes that line of thinking out of his mind.

This goes on for a while, until Brady begins to slip into a light, fitful sleep with Laura's hands still on his back. He dreams in gold and green and red and white, long dirty blond hair and that bold bloodred number 47 being imprinted on his back from being hammered to the turf so many times.

Then something jolts him awake; the hands on his back are no longer the small, cool hands of his sister, they're someone else's, larger and rougher, _masculine_.

Brady starts and bucks his hips up, trying to throw off whoever it is, but one of the large foreign hands presses back, pushing Brady back into the bed.

"Cut it out," and Brady shudders a little bit at the voice.

"AJ? Where's Laura?" he asks, still squirming, trying to roll away from his sister's boyfriend's large, warm hands. Trying to roll away from the strange, funny feeling that's opened up in the pit of his stomach.

"She went to get some ice. You have some nasty bruises," AJ says. "You were sleeping so peacefully, didn't want to bother you."

AJ finally moves away from the bed and Brady sits up, rubbing at his chest, at the mass of purple bruises, connect-the-dots only more like connect-the-bruise. AJ glances at him, hands resting on his hips. "What?" Brady scowls.

"Nothin'." AJ wanders over to the minibar and pulls on the handle, and chuffs in disappointment when it doesn't give. "Got anything to drink?"

Brady rolls back onto his stomach and fumbles around on the nightstand, grabbing the key to the minibar and tossing it over to Hawk. "There you go. Knock yourself out."

AJ opens it up and grabs a couple bottles of beer. "Here." He flips one at Brady and it hits him in the stomach with a thunk, landing on the bed next to him.

Quinn wraps an arm around his waist, grimacing at the cold and the sharpness of the pain pulling through his body. "Thanks."

"Y'okay?" AJ sits down on the bed next to Brady, twisting the cap off his beer and taking a long pull, his adam's apple bobbing, large thick fingers curled around the bottle tight, like he's afraid Brady might try to take it away from him.

"What do _you_ think?" Brady opens his own beer and takes a swig, swirling it around in his mouth before swallowing.

"I think you took a beating today," AJ says, resting his beer on the flat plane of Brady's stomach. He shudders at the contact, and the condensation dripping off the bottle onto his skin.

"Yeah, well, thanks." Brady puts his beer on the nightstand and rolls back onto his stomach, crushing the pillow underneath his chin. " 'm tired. Gonna go t'sleep, I think."

Brady feels AJ's hand on his back again. "Well, looks like Laura's not comin' back, so lemme finish that backrub for you."

"Stop it," Brady sighs, kicking his leg at Hawk. "I'm tired."

"Me too." AJ puts his palm against the small of Brady's back when the door creaks open. Both men raise their heads to see Laura slip into the room, a bucket of ice tucked under her arm against her hip.

"Getting cozy, gentlemen?" she asks, smiling brightly, still wearing her half-ND, half-OSU jersey. She drops her keycard onto the dresser and comes over with the ice.

"Back just in the nick of time," AJ grins, getting up to greet Laura with a kiss.

Brady turns his head and looks at the wall behind the bed, cream colored and pockmarked, giving his sister and her boyfriend a little privacy.

Instead, the bed dips with the extra weight and Brady turns to look again; AJ and Laura lay down next to him, and he has to laugh.

"You two are _not_ doing that with me on the bed. If you wanna go at it, I can go to the pool or something for a little while," he says, getting up to go, bending over to grapple with his t-shirt.

Another hand on his back, and this time it's Laura's. "No, stay. We don't want to make you leave," she says, softly, almost cooing at him like how one would coo at a baby.

Brady bristles. "Look, I can just go."

"Come on," AJ says. "Don't go."

Brady looks back at them. AJ's eyes are shining like silver dollars and the skin at Laura's collarbones is flushed; when did she even take off the jersey? Brady swallows and manages a smile.

"If you guys wanna . . . you know. I can give you some - "

"Fuck, Brady, we don't _want_ privacy," Hawk says, rolling his eyes. "We want you to join in."

Brady laughs. "That's not funny, Hawk."

"He's serious," Laura says, moving closer to Brady, touching the back of his wrist. 

"Laur? You can't be suggesting what I think you are . . . right?" Brady stares at his sister, searching her eyes, for some hint of whether or not this bizarre (and not to mention indecent) proposal is all a part of some sick joke.

"I am, B." Laura brings his hand to her breast. "AJ wants us both, I guess." She laughs and Brady flinches away, curling his arm against his chest, almost protective of it. 

"Laura, are you drunk? Or high? Did AJ get you hooked on drugs?" Brady asks, not even realizing how ridiculous that sounds. While _everyone_ on the Irish football team tossed around barbs about Hawk possibly using steroids, hoping to get him off his game, no one actually believed them. But now, as Brady gazes into his sister's eyes, searching for signs of drug use to explain her bizarre behavior, he's beginning to suspect that maybe the rumors were right, and that AJ had somehow convinced Laura to take drugs too. Or something. 

"I'm not drunk _or_ high," she says, flipping her hair behind her shoulder and rolling her eyes at him. "Like I said, AJ and I want you to . . . I guess, particpate. With us."

Brady shakes his head. "No, I won't do it, Laura. You're my sister and that's fucking sick." He goes to get out of bed, but Hawk grabs him by the wrist.

"Wait. I think I know what the problem is," AJ says, with a smirk. Laura tilts her head. "Brady just doesn't like the ladies. Is that right Brady?"

"Shut up, Hawk." Brady pulls away from AJ and rubs at his wrist.

"Come on, Brady. It'll be fun. Our little secret." Laura smiles conspiratorially at him, and Brady wonders. What it would be like to - and no, not going with that train of thought either tonight. No way, no how.

"No one's gonna find out, Quinn," AJ says, shrugging his large shoulders. "We sure as hell aren't gonna tell anyone." He seems to sense Brady's will weakening and he nods over to Laura, who approaches Brady, takes him by the hand and leads him back to the bed.

"Just lie down and close your eyes," Laura whispers in his ear, and Brady shudders, but he does lie down and close his eyes.

When he opens them, Hawk is shirtless and undoing his belt buckle, and Laura is next to him. 

Naked.

Brady raises a hand to his eyes instinctively, shielding them from his sister's nakedness, thinks about all the times he walked in on her in the bathroom on accident, and how her body never looked this - Brady shakes the thoughts out of his head.

Laura smiles. "He's blushing, AJ."

Hawk grins, winding his belt around his hand and dropping it on the floor. "Aw. How precious."

Laura reaches out and tilts Brady's chin up. "Don't be embarrassed, Brady. It's not like you've never seen boobies before . . . Right?" She giggles and Brady pulls away, scowling at her.

"Of course I have!" he insists, trying hard not to lower his eyes from her face. "I've seen plenty of boobi - tits. Shut up."

AJ and Laura laugh. "Well, then why are you afraid of mine?" She takes his hand again and presses his palm to her breast, and Brady can feel her heartbeat jackrabbiting wildly underneath, and he realizes she's just as nervous as he is. Somehow, that makes him feel a little better.

"Squeeze your hand, Brady," Laura says, pulling on his index finger.

"Careful, I need that one," he says, his face flushing, really, all of him flushing.

"Come on," Hawk taunts. "Are you _gay_?"

Brady shakes his head, clamping down on his bottom lip, biting so hard he thinks he might break through skin and split his lip. That wouldn't be so bad, actually. "L-Laur - " 

"Please, Brady," she says, and it's not so much the words than it is the tone in her voice, and the hungry look in Hawk's eyes, and Brady closes _his_ eyes and gives his sister's tit a squeeze.

When the flames of hell don't immediately rush in to welcome him, he opens his eyes.

Laura is smiling at him, and she takes his hand again, pulls him closer, then moves his hand lower across her stomach, as Hawk's long blond hair falls over her shoulder, his teeth flashing big and bright on her neck. Laura tilts her head back and Brady lets her press his hand over her navel. His heart catches in his throat, and he really can't do anything but let Laura direct him.

"Touch her," Hawk mumbles over mouthful of Laura's brown hair. "I want to see you do it."

"I ca - "

"I want to see you finger her," Hawk says, firmly now, and Brady feels his cheeks flush.

"I, I . . . No," Brady stammers, and tries to pull his hand back, but Laura latches on. "Laura, stop. We can't."

Laura doesn't reply; instead she lays down on the bed and Hawk joins her, reaching around to squeeze her breasts, his mouth still on her neck, and they both reach out and pull Brady down with them.

Brady closes his eyes and trails his fingertips from her stomach, which flutters underneath his touch, to her thigh, and his hand starts to tremble. He feels Hawk's hand wrap around his wrist, oh fuck not his throwing arm, and guides his hand down lower between Laura's thighs.

Brady bites down on his lip and squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, hopes that they'll at least let him keep his eyes closed and he won't have to see what he's doing to her. He isn't really in control of that part of his body anymore anyway, a lot like how football is, he just throws the ball and hell if he knows where it's going to end up sometimes.

"Oh, Brady," Laura sighs, and he shudders.

He feels a mouth on his shoulderblade and it sure as hell can't be Laura's. Then rough hands on his hips, squeezing just a little bit too hard, and Hawk whispers at the back of his neck.

"I want to fuck you, Quinn."

Brady isn't as opposed to that was he was to touching Laura . . . Again, he stops with that line of thinking. Better not to question it or wonder about it for too long. He might not like the answers his brain provides. "I . . . Okay." 

AJ laughs into his hair, and rumbles, "But I want to do you while you're doing Laura."

Brady pulls his hand away from Laura's thighs and tries to jerk away from AJ. "I'm not going to fuck my fucking sister." Brady stumbles to his feet and puts out a hand to keep from falling to the ground.

"You've thought about it though, haven't you?" Hawk asks, looking up at him from the bed. Laura is laying beside him, her cheeks rouged and her hand fluttering between her legs, her hair fanned over her pillow.

"Fuck no," he squeaks, and his voice cracks, and Laura laughs, and AJ grins.

They know it's a lie.

AJ stands up, and Brady realizes he's naked from the waist down too, and very . . . large. "C'mon." He touches Brady's hip and smiles at him, but somehow, he only manages to look even scarier.

Laura smiles and shifts on the bed. "He's really good, Brady. You might actually enjoy yourself."

Brady shoots her a glare and then looks back at Hawk, eyes drifting downward from Hawk's busted nose to his chest to his stomach to his. Yeah. Brady looks away. "I don't know."

"I'll be gentle," and Brady laughs; he doesn't think Hawk's ever been gentle about anything in this life. If there's one thing that makes AJ Hawk the athlete that he is, it's not that he's gentle, that's for damn sure.

"Right," Brady snorts, "right. You'll be gentle?" He gestures to the bruises on his chest. "I think most of this is your handiwork, Hawk."

Without any words, AJ reaches out and curls his fingers around Brady's cock, not surprisingly he's hard, and he strokes it, rubs his thumb over the head. Brady shudders again but this time it's not because he isn't feeling it.

His mouth drops open and then there's a tongue in there that isn't his, he can taste the beer on Hawk's tongue and behind that the celebratory champagne, and Hawk kisses the everloving fuck out of Quinn while he grips Brady's rigid cock in his hand, and somehow this isn't so bad.

Brady lets AJ push him down on the bed and he can hear Laura opening up the set of drawers and then coming back to the bed, dropping a package of condoms and some lube between them. Brady closes his eyes again, bucks his hips as Hawk starts grinding against him, still stroking his cock, and then Brady shoots his load, and there are three sets of hands on him.

Brady slumps back against Hawk, against his chest, and Hawk reaches around him for the condoms, tears one off and hands the rest to Laura. She opens one of the foil wrappers and pulls one out, and Brady shudders as she slides it on over his dick, pausing to smooth out the bubbles.

Somehow, through his sex induced haze, Brady thinks _Oh my God, what if the condom breaks? What if I get her pregnant?_

There are fingers at his ass, wet with something, and he moves away, "What the fuck?" 

"Lube. It won't hurt so much with lube," AJ points out.

"That shit is fucking gross." Brady watches as Laura finishes smoothing out the wrinkles of his condom in almost detached amusement. This isn't really happening to him is it? This stuff only happens on the pages of _Penthouse_.

"You want me to fuck you without the lube then?" AJ asks, snorting, Brady flinching away at the cold wetness on his fingers. Brady grunting "No," and Hawk grinning, saying, "Didn't think so."

Brady lets out a soft sigh as Laura maneuvers herself underneath him, sliding her hands down his side, to his hips. 

"I've never done this before," he says, hovering over her, his cross dangling on a chain around his neck. Laura reaches up and tugs on it, pulling it and snapping it from around his neck.

"So you _are_ a virgin," she says, smiling, tucking the cross away out of sight.

"Not exactly . . . but I've never . . . with a girl," he whispers, and Hawk laughs behind him.

"I knew it." AJ laughs and rests his chin against Brady's shoulder, mouth squeezed against the back of Brady's neck. "This may hurt a little bit." Hawk pushes his weight down on Brady, and Brady lays on top of Laura, crushing against her chest, and she smiles at him.

"Kiss me, Brady," she murmurs, stroking her hand down his cheek.

Brady kisses her on the mouth lightly, and AJ says, "Okay, here we go," pressing his hips forward.

Brady closes his eyes, because looking into Laura's flushed face is like looking into his own, if he maybe put on makeup and a wig, and instead concentrates on how Hawk is in him and searing his insides, his teeth on the back of his neck and his hair flopping into Brady's face.

Laura wraps a leg around his waist, pulling him hard against her chest, whispering against his neck, words he can't quite make out because Hawk's breath is rattling in his ear.

It's so hot, and sweat is slicking down Brady's neck, and pooling at the small of his back, and Hawk is fucking him like a woman, talking dirty to him and pausing to lean over Brady's shoulder to kiss Laura on the mouth.

"Fuck me harder, Brady," Laura moans, and Brady closes his eyes, pushes deeper, and, so fucking hot, he feels like he's going to pass out.

"You my little bitch, Quinn?" Hawk asks, biting down on Brady's shoulder.

"Yes," Brady sighs into Laura's mouth, and she licks at his lips.

Laura closes her eyes and moans, "God, Brady," and Brady has the good sense to blush at that.

AJ, lips against Brady's ear, grunts, "I'm coming," and that sends a shiver down his spine. Hawk grins against his shoulder and laughs, and when he's finished, slumps against Brady's bare, bruised back.

Brady squeezes his eyes shut, Hawk breathing hard on his back, before he comes too, and Laura lays underneath the two of them, clutching her arms around Brady's neck, clamoring for more, more than Brady's already given her, more than he already can.

When all three of them are finally spent and laying in a heap on the bed, limbs entangled, Brady reaches out and strokes a hand through Laura's hair, damp with sweat. He trails his hand down her bare arm, and turns to Hawk, who's rubbing a large paw over his chest, eyes closed, mouth working but the volume on mute.

Brady blinks away the dying vestiges of light, looks at Laura with her eyes closed, her hair hanging in her face, and then at AJ, already half-asleep, mouthing something only he can hear.

He slips out from between the two of them and climbs out of the bed, Laura and AJ immediately finding each other in the middle of the bed and pressing their foreheads together, murmuring drowsily.

Brady walks over to the balcony and presses his palm to the window, staring out at the darkness below. Headlights flicker like fireflies, and Brady unlatches the door, pushing it open and stepping outside.

A cool gush of air hits him like a freight train in the center of his chest and he leans against the railing, staring down at the cars on the street, shadows creeping in and the moon slipping behind a pocket of clouds, the highway running like a dark river cutting through everything, everything going dark except for the tiny pinpricks of light down below.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


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